Coffee For Ace
by The What-If Writer
Summary: One-Shot, Please Read Note; A normal, peaceful morning, Ace finds his leisure time disrupted. Contains Oc, Mentions of Violence, no romance or pairings.


_Note: This CAN be read alone, but to avoid confusion I'd check out the other fanfics featuring Ace that I've written. They're all quite short (One chapters One-Shots), but they'll introduce any aspects that may be confusing in this fic._

_Includes: 'Dread', 'Dreading Downfall', and 'Locked'._

_Yes, this is connected to Lifeforce, but not necessarily what happens in the story._

* * *

Coffee for Ace

The gladiator didn't usually turn many lights on in his quarters; he preferred the dimness. It was akin to that of having the blinds closed with the sunlight behind them; the reminder that it was morning, but_ early_ morning. Which meant relaxing quietly before the day kick-started for real.

The sound of the coffee maker broke the silence Ace moved across the living room and plump couch, a hand raised half-heartedly to combat his yawn. His hair, oddly still in its exact shape as yesterday, fell past his half-open eyes lethargically like a cat's tail, almost like it had a mind of its own.

Ace vaguely listed off the things that were on the To-Do list today; ranging from a few battles tonight and a few press meetings- which meant dealing with Jaunita and Dallas a little more than engaging in combat. He tried not to grumble; but his nose wrinkled slightly at the idea of missing out on some action to deal with them. But, they came with the fame package. The cameras where worth it most of the time.

He ran a thick hand through his hair, sitting down on a red armchair. The apartment had been decorated with Dreadzone-based motive; thanks to his special status he'd managed to keep the interior designers from printing the logo everywhere. But, black, red, orange and yellow made up a lot of it. Red cushions, curtains, sleek silver floor...

Well, at least it was comfortable. He leaned back a little, his eyes demanding a little more rest before he got his morning coffee. He idly tried to recall what he did yesterday; early mornings usually had him a bit fuzzy in the memory department. Guess it's a side-effect of being in the same place for too long...oh, yeah.

The Terror Triplets. It sounded like the typical hand-picked name from a superhero fanclub; maybe they searched over the Holo-Net to see what names hadn't been taken yet. By now only the most IQ-Deficient titles had been left. The trio had been clad in red, much like the couch he now sat on, all holding laser whips. It would have been impressive; and it first the crowd awed at the ribbon-dance like movement one of the three made. But, the novelty wore off after a few matches and soon the three where ready for their finale. Those legendary whips of theirs could almost have been a match for him if he hadn't used them to tie up their owners and watch them burn alive at the hands of their own flashy weapon...

_Ding-Ding._

Ace opened his eyes, finding himself gone from reliving that moment, and back in his apartment. His ear twitched a little as he recognised the sound of the coffee maker signalling it had finished. With an indifferent sniff he stood up and strode to the kitchen; pulling the coffee beaker from the machine and reaching into the sleek metal cupboard above. Without looking and more or less on autopilot, he scooped up a mug and lifted the beaker over it, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

It almost seemed like a long time ago, the day before this. He felt as if the memory was a well-rehearsed one, the whip winding around the horrified and terror-struck three and their slow realization that there wasn't any possible chance of survival dawning in their faces...

It made something he couldn't quite explain pull in his chest. Not quilt. Interest? Excitement? Some strange straddle between? For some reason he associated the feeling with how Juanita looked when watching the play-backs of particularly bloody fights...

He shrugged to no one in particular and lethargically poured the beaker-

"Ack-!"

Ace Hardlight does not get scared, nor jumpy, nor alarmed. He is certainly not terrorized by the idea of a spider the size of a thumb sitting in his cup.

But, he didn't like the image of taking a sip and having it against his lips, and that's what popped into his head a second after he saw it. He'd stiffened, registered, and dropped the mug. It rolled towards the side of the counter. Ace stood stiff, holding the beaker of coffee still aloof, eyes slightly wide.

He wasn't afraid; grossed out maybe, and shuddered at the idea of having it in his drink. He'd never expected something like that to happen to him, lest of all today. The mug fell onto the fuzzy carpet underneath the kitchen counter, and thankfully didn't break on impact. Ace watched it, expecting the annoying little bug to scuttle away- but it didn't.

He waited. Then, a thought occurred to him. A thought that replaced his grossed-out feeling with that of growing fury.

Ace bent down, rolled up the sleeve of his night-robe, and tipped the cup back towards him.

It was ridiculously clear now that the spider was plastic and a prop; the red markings where simple splotches of store paint and nothing more. Ace's sharp, handsome face twisted into a dark sort of snarl.

Only one person had the gall, the cheek, the absolute _nerve _to even think about doing this to him. Most would have their teeth chattering at the idea of Ace beating their ugly faces in for ticking him off, but there was one little _rat _that didn't have the brains for that.

Coffee forgotten, Ace stood, turned, and marched off to get dressed.

...

Not many of the well-living gladiators and exterminators where up before ten, so many worker drones and bots blinked in surprise as Ace marched down the hallway, long fringe hair bouncing in its own added fury. One robot even collided into the back of another, dropping a bunch of white towels on the floor. Ace paid them no heed; whether he messed up their work and got them a first-class decapitation via collar bomb, he didn't care. He made the long, storming trek to the Containment Suites; many sealed after an abundance of heroes had recently been dragged in. He went to the smallest and most disused; the one that was considered the lowest in standard and worthy of someone who was the lowest of importance.

Ignoring the shaky protest of a nearby guard, he snatched the key card from him and swiped it against the access scanner; opening the heavy door. He marched in.

The dim, musty suite was cluttered with metal parts; small contraptions and funny little ones that looked almost like makeshift action figures. Ace made sure to step on the poor toys as he stormed in, the door locking shut behind him.

He moved to the very end of the suite; around a small corner. A tiny recess-like area came into view, where a small bed lay in the small corner. Snuggled underneath a thin green blanket, only his fuzzy ear and eyebrows in view, was a certain little lombax that Ace had grown to loathe.

Ace didn't pay attention to how kitten-like the boy was curled, snoozing innocently, as he knew he was anything but. With a single swipe of his strong fist the purple brat was snatched from his bed, his green blanket fluttering helplessly to the floor.

Pale blue eyes shot open in alarm and the lombax gave out a strangled, croak-like noise as Ace's fingers where clamped tight around his neck and upper chest. He was so small that his hand alone could probably crush him if he applied enough pressure; but Ace wasn't letting him get off that easy.

After a few seconds of frantic struggling, the young teen's eyes focused on him and burned with that cold, raw defiance he always saw, the struggles less out of alarm and more out of anger. He glared back with a snide sneer,

"Have fun with your cheap trick, Runt?"

The One-Eared lombax coughed a little, legs dangling uselessly, his only ear slumped. He forced a snarky grin, "Well it d-e-pends on which reaction from you I imagine...You screaming like a girl is always the one th-that comes to m-i-nd..."

Ace gradually tightened his grip, sky-blue eyes narrowed viciously, "I should strangle you right now..."

"Voxx wanted me al-ive...d-oesn't wanna scare off too m-many views with my adorable f-face getting offed too soon..." One-Ear replied, eyes blazing- clearly that existence wasn't something he liked either. Ace snorted.

Voxx had created a problem by bringing in someone so young and fluffy. Kitten-like, small and with those big blue eyes, the first time the brat had been pounded to near-death on live television, many viewers and audience members began doubting themselves and what they liked for entertainment. Could they condone killing a child? Ace would laugh at that attitude- they killed off heroes without batting an eye. Dreadzone spread further than the Dark Sector, and it was impossible that _all _of those viewers where criminals- heck, most where citizens who appeared law-abiding, watching the heroes that saved them die for their giggles.

He was pretty sure other kids watched the show- wha, with all that merchandise. Maybe Voxx felt seeing another child die was a bit too scary for them. Seeing big guys and girls battle and punch each other looked more like a cartoon; less real. A screaming child wasn't like that.

Then again, most viewers didn't care less if the brat died. The Dark Sector didn't. But, Voxx didn't wish to lose those precious other numbers, so the brat would be kept alive. For now.

"You're not _that _young." Ace said slowly, glaring as well as smirking now, pulling the brat closer to his eyes for effect, "As soon as that squeaky little voice of yours breaks, I'll break your neck right along with it."

One-Ear watched him with a pair of narrowed pale eyes, his breath still tight and crackling with his grip around his neck. He didn't appear scared; he never did. Ace was sure this kid was slightly crazy.

He slammed the small fluffy body against the wall, hitting his head, then did it again- One-Ear yelped weakly with each one before Ace dropped him to the ground. From his tall height it only added salt to the wound. The boy landed on his side, and began coughing heavily as Ace turned away.

Ace began striding away- but then found the lombax had latched onto his leg with little arms, stopping him. He was glaring furiously, as if this was the only way he could annoy Ace further in his beaten state. Ace rose a brow, most of his anger already spent.

"Do you wanna kick, too, Kid?"

Then, something sprang to his mind. How it got there, he'd never know. He scooped the lombax back up by the scruff, making him look even more like a ragged, bad-mannered kitten, and hoisted him up to eye-level. One-Ear focused a glare at him once more; lips slightly pursed.

"How did you get that stupid toy spider in there, anyway?" Ace asked slowly. He was wearing his collar; it wouldn't allow contestants into Gladiator living quarters, or anywhere near them without giving a shock and sounding off an alarm. So how had he done it?

One-Ear grinned, bearing sharp, white little teeth. Ace would have been creeped out if he wasn't already used to the look. "Maybe it walked there."

Ace was about to raise a hand to slap the litle tyke- when he spotted something on the counters nearby. The little figures made out of scrap robot metal; no weapons (Voxx wouldn't allow it) but little soldiers...

Ace dropped One-Ear like a ragdoll and marched over, plucking one up and examining it close. He was no engineer, but he could see tiny wires and such poking out of the crude little toy. It slowly dawned on him.

One-Ear dusted himself off nearby, scratching at the thin, ragged fur around his neck. "Like them? Though I thought you were a lil' too old for toys..."

"The spider's a robot? It- walked there?" Ace's voice was lower than usual; threatening. This was potentially risky- he could have used this to send a message to other captives, to take out security, or poison someone...

He wondered why he listed all of these possibilities. Guess thinking out of the box was what he used to do. Anyway, Ace concluded that they'd let the kid have too much freedom with this stuff. e could have tried something...and instead...

"You built a robot that got passed security...and used it to prank me." He stated flatly, staring at the wall in a dead-pan manner. He had no energy to face-palm right now.

"Yip-A-Roonie." One-Ear said indifferently behind him, now sitting on one of the counters. He smirked, "Sorry about your coffee, by the way."

"Enjoy your little games for the next five minutes." Ace tossed the soldier figure he was holding back at him, narrowly missing his grinning little mug, "It won't be long."

"Freakin' Tattle-Tale.." He heard the brat mumble as he stormed out the suit. He would be alerting Voxx about it. As Ace marched back through the halls, it occurred to him that if he'd filled that cup with coffee and drank it...would he just be getting a scare, or would there be something in the robot that would...

Ace shook his head slowly. Nah. The robotics in the little toy would spark- he'd see it before it could do anything. It wasn't like the kid could get hold of poison or anything...

Still. The way the kid had managed to get so close to him to the point of being close enough to tamper with his coffee, yet not do anything just yet, was something he found unnerving.


End file.
